


"Plant Fucker."

by aph_aleks (orphan_account)



Series: not what you bargained for. [1]
Category: Little Shop of Horrors (1986)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, M/M, Non-Abusive Orin Scrivello, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Smut, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Vines, Voyeurism, sorry for the rushed ending this took ages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/aph_aleks
Summary: "I'm- I'm a good boy," Seymour repeated softly to himself, a small smile twitching onto his face yet gone in a split second. Gone quicker than it arrived. He looked at Orin, glances at first, and then they made direct eye contact once more, intense and brimming with sexual tension."I've wanted you to- to… fuck… me for months, I couldn't- I couldn't stop thinking about it. Anywhere we h-happened to be. Here in the sh-shop, on your mo-motorbike, at yo-your work, anywhere."
Relationships: Audrey II/Seymour Krelborn, Seymour Krelborn/Orin Scrivello
Series: not what you bargained for. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592686
Comments: 9
Kudos: 114





	"Plant Fucker."

When Orin sauntered into Mushnik’s Flower Shop, he didn’t particularly expect to see what he happened to. He went to the flower shop looking for Audrey, to take her on the date they’d planned the night before, but of course she wasn’t there; the man who he’d attempted to hide his…  _ feelings… _ for, was, instead. Yes, the dentist was aware that he worked there, that  _ nerdy goddamn florist, so fucking cute,  _ but he was there later than he usually was. Not that Orin even really payed much attention to what he did and his schedule, just  _ him _ . 

Looking after Audrey II. Orin had heard rumours - whispers - about the plant -  _ "Somethin' strange is going on with that plant. He's not accepting many deals, that Seymour, now is he?" _

He’d rode to the shop on his motorbike, leather jacket blowing in the wind, slicked hair not quite doing the same, completely ready to go see a movie with his lovely girlfriend at one of the new fancy theatres (something he could afford, thank fuck), yet what he was seeing instead worked, too.

He was shocked, at first, to find that the plant that was bringing Seymour so much money and fame could speak fluent English, or, well,  _ speak _ , but he’d quickly gotten over that fact. (The plant could talk!).

The more interesting aspect was that Seymour was _suspended_ in the _air_ by _leafy_ _vines._

Two vines were wrapped around Seymour's plush,  _ gorgeous  _ thighs, two more holding his wrists together behind his back, most likely leaving bruises, yet it seemed as if the brunette didn't mind. Now that was something the dentist could get behind; he didn't mind pain, in fact, he thought, taking in the scene ahead of him, Seymour seemed to  _ like _ it. There was a single, large vine wrapped around his waist, and one-

"What people say about you is right!" Orin exclaimed suddenly without meaning to, "Pl-plant fucker!" 

Seymour's beautiful eyes widened as they set upon the other man, swirling with immense lust and fear among that; Orin's natural instinct was to tell him that no, there was no need to fear him, or what he'd say publicly, because he wouldn't  _ do  _ that to him-

"He's pretty like this, ain't he, Scrivello?" Twoey's mouth crooked up slightly into something akin to a smirk, "Look at how well he takes me." To prove his own apparent point, the plant spread Seymour's legs further to give Orin a better view of the inbetween; the sight made him have to try very hard to suppress a moan - the vine, the  _ tentacle _ , pushed further and harder inside the florist. 

"Or-Orin," Seymour's voice sounded raw and well used, "Wh-what are you doing he-  _ ah!"  _

The dentist chuckled at the way the florist was cut off by his own gasp of pleasure. His mind was completely clouded with dirty, dirty thoughts, clouded with want; Seymour looked so fucking hot, suspended like that, being fucked so good and taking it so well, being such a  _ good boy _ . Orin wondered whether he'd be good for him, too; he wanted so desperately to bend him over the counter of the flower shop and fuck him until neither could think coherently, strings of curse words escaping his parted lips. 

"He does look pretty like this, you're right," Orin chuckled darkly and looked directly into Seymour's still widened eyes, making meaningful eye contact with him until his gaze was ripped away by Audrey Two speaking again. To him. Directly.

"He's wanted you for ages, y'know; doesn't stop talkin' about you. Wants you to fuck him over that motorbike of yours."

"Oh, is that right?"

"Heard it from him himself. Go on Seymour, why don't you tell him?" Twoey's apparent smirk grew wider, much wider, as a wicked idea came to his mind, instantly stopping the movement of the vine inside the florist. Said florist whimpered and whined, trying to rock down onto it a little, wanting - no, needing - it moving again. 

"Twoey, wh-" He whimpered once again, louder this time, "Do I h-have to?" 

Audrey Two seemed to pull out a little, every second of silence dragging on, every second his vine removing itself from inside Seymour, causing the brunette's eyes to fill with tears of frustration. His hands twitched behind him and his thighs quivered and shook, leaving him helpless to the lust and the pure  _ dominance _ that radiated from both the plant  _ and  _ Orin.

God, he felt weak in the knees because of how dominated he felt. Thank fuck he didn't have to stand just yet.

Orin watched expectantly, an overwhelming feeling of pride rising in his chest, giving him a sudden rush of adrenaline, though he stayed still. Completely still, watching, waiting for Seymour to speak.

"You're a good boy, aren't you?" A fast and reassuring nod came from Seymour in response to Twoey's question, followed by a series of full body shuddering with need. It seemed as if the plant knew exactly how to get the florist to do its every demand; he'd have to pay attention, then.

"I'm- I'm a good boy," Seymour repeated softly to himself, a small smile twitching onto his face yet gone in a split second. Gone quicker than it arrived. He looked at Orin, glances at first, and then they made direct eye contact once more, intense and brimming with sexual tension. "I've wanted you to- to…  _ fuck…  _ me for months, I couldn't- I couldn't stop thinking about it. Anywhere we h-happened to be. Here in the sh-shop, on your mo-motorbike, at yo-your work, anywhere."

"There you go. Good boy, Seymour," Audrey Two, shoving the vine back into Seymour, said in amusement, "Good boy." He repeated. 

"That's interesting, Seymour, because I think about fucking you. Anywhere." The dentist smirked up at the brunette as a deep blush dusted his squishy-looking cheeks and even the tips of his ears. Seymour felt so incredibly hot suddenly, so much heat filled his body and his mind - he moaned loud, head lolling back, Twoey's words running through his mind,  _ "Good boy, Seymour,"  _ and then Orin's,  _ "I think about fucking you. Anywhere." _

The raven-haired man's smirk twisted until it became one of deviance, and he looked at -Twoey pointedly, “You should make him beg. I want to hear what it would sound like from him,” Then his gaze moved back to Seymour, who was shaking considerably, tears streaming down his pink face one by one; proof that the pleasure he was feeling could just as easily be taken away.

And it was, temporarily.    
  
Once again, the vines stopped moving, and if Seymour couldn’t think it could get any worse, it  _ did,  _ it got so much worse; he’d already been humiliated enough, and when he was fucking close, it all stopped - why did Orin have to walk in? This wouldn’t have happened if he just didn’t show up.

“Orin here wants you to beg,” Twoey didn’t move for a moment and then suddenly, with no warning, the one vine that was fucking him previously began stroking his cock teasingly. It didn’t take very long for the florist to give in, especially since this was  _ really _ dragging on: he just wanted to be fucked, goddamn it!

Couldn’t he just have that, if not much else?

“ _ Hah,  _ okay, pl-please fuck me, I-I need this,” Seymour’s voice cracked and wavered as he spoke, “Please!” 

“I think you can do better than that, boy,” The plant mocked with something like a bored expression, though it wasn't easy to tell, for obvious reasons, "Maybe I should let Orin fuck you?" 

Seymour moaned in response to the words that left Audrey Two, nodding fervently, "Please, oh  _ please,  _ I just want to be fucked, I n-need it so bad - Twoey, I want Orin's c-cock inside me, ca-can I, please?" His curls bounced on his forehead as he spoke,  _ begged _ , and finally it appeased the plant, who moved the florist down to Orin's level. 

Twoey's vines spread the brunette's legs more, bending them slightly to give the dentist more access. 

Orin stared, gaping for a second. This was  _ happening _ . Seymour was spread out in front of him, already stretched and ready, already having begged for him - he really wanted this, and that was extremely obvious,  _ painfully _ so.

Rushing, he unbuttoned his trousers and removed them, as quick as he could, and in realising that there was no preparation needed, he discarded his boxers, placed his hands on Seymour's hips, and pushed in.

The two let out moans simultaneously, the dentist being enveloped by the tight heat of  _ Seymour _ , clenching around him so good; said florist had closed his eyes, silently praying that Orin wouldn't wait, or make him do anything, just  _ fuck him. _ He'd been a good boy! 

He’d never really been one for patience. Yet, neither had Orin.

Twoey’s vines tightened slightly around his limbs, and then Orin’s hands were squeezing his hips, and he was  _ moving,  _ and suddenly Seymour couldn’t hold back the noises that escaped him, couldn’t control himself as much as he could before. Orin’s mind instantly fell into a haze, only really focused on the sensation around his cock, and the expressions on the florist’s face; he wasn’t sure whether there was an even hotter sight.

He started moving, thrusting his hips, getting progressively faster with each one until the younger man was squeaking with each brush of his prostate (Orin had found it relatively quickly, and was abusing his power) and letting out long, lewd sounds; the whimpers were Orin's favourite. 

Seymour's hands clenched and unclenched behind him, wanting to grab onto something,  _ anything _ , find another way to anchor himself as sweet pleasure coursed through him, making him tremble and shake, moan and mewl - when Orin's hands squeezed him, he swore he saw white. 

"Now this is much better than I anticipated," Twoey said, chuckling to himself, "Hmm… what a slut."

Orin chuckled, too, breathily, heavily, "Yeah, he is."

Seymour couldn't hear their conversation, much less did he want to. He was way too caught up in the feeling of Orin's cock stretching him, sliding into him, large hands squeezing him; he felt so so so  _ so  _ good-

A whine left his lips, louder than the ones that previously had, and he blushed deeply as Orin leaned up slightly and smashed their lips together, instantly nipping at his bottom lip -  _ could this get any better? _

The two kissed passionately for a moment, before Twoey's voice distracted both men, though neither faltered their movements (not that Seymour was really doing much). The plant was once again adorning something that looked an awful lot like a smirk, even if it was fairly hard to tell, and Seymour instantly feared the worst.

"Are you close yet, baby?" 

_ He's not going to let me come, he's not going to let me come- _

"Y-yes! Fuck, so close, pl-please let me!"

Orin sped up, dug his nails into Seymour's skin, groaned. Hips moving rapidly, one of his hands removed itself from the florist's waist and wrapped loosely around his cock, moving with his thrusts. 

"Go on, baby, good boy," The plant agreed, beginning to loosen the vines around Seymour's thighs, releasing some of the pressure, moving his legs to wrap gently around Orin's own waist; Twoey did the same with Seymour's arms, and as soon as he let go, the dentist was moving to the nearest surface. The front desk. 

At least they'd taken the initiative to cover the windows mostly, creating a backdrop for the flower display in the window. That was very convenient.

Orin sat Seymour down on it and continued fucking him, harder and faster, close already himself - more sounds escaped him now, groans and grunts. Seymour wrapped his arms around Orin's neck and pushed their chests together, burying his face into the crook of his neck, legs around his waist still as he came with a broken whimper. 

Overstimulation soon set in as Orin carried on with his movement, fucking him without a rhythm anymore, and all Seymour could really do was whine into the older man's neck, prostate being abused; he felt hazy and dirty, come sticky between them. 

An overwhelming feeling of relief washed over him as Orin came, hips halting suddenly. 

He pulled out and helped Seymour down, the younger leaning on the front desk for support, legs weak. The dentist pulled up his trousers, and picked up the florist bridal style, carrying him downstairs to his bed. 

That went better than expected. 

**Author's Note:**

> shrek don't leave me hangin


End file.
